Always
by RaitonWolf
Summary: Title really has nothing to do with the story; I just couldn't think of anything better. Basically a Michi/Waka fic.


Ushiwaka hadn't realized it until it was much too late...By the time he had come to the mortal plain, Michizane was already long dead, gone from the world like the demons that once inhabited it, King Fury and Akuro both defeated as well. He was now standing by the man's gravestone, wishing he could reveal the words he had never said to the man that he once thought as his father, and later on, much more.

He had found out when Chibiterasu first came onto the Celestial Plains with Issun. Chibiterasu had refused to continue the story once they came to Kurow, so after the blonde man brought the doll back, Chibiterasu continued the tale with his help, from the chase out of Sei-An city, to the ruin. Then Waka had stopped them.

"Michizane died?" He had gasped, eyes widened.

"Yeah dude, why? Was he, like, a friend of yours or something?" The other blonde was curious, but not in the least bit picking up on Waka's shock or discomfort. Or if he did, he really didn't care about it.

"...That is none of your business, I think. How did he die, if I may ask?"

"Apparently there were some nasty rumors, going around, dude. The poor guy snapped. He wound up changing into some crazy spirit dude. We put his spirit to rest though. It was, like, the least we could do. His grave is on North Ryoshima Coast, though, if you want to know."

Waka heard the rest of the story, not really paying attention. Then he had left for the mortal plain without another word, in the vehicle that Issun and Chibi came back in, silently shaking the whole way, with the tears he refused to shed.

He had gone to the grave site as soon as he could possibly make it. It hadn't taken all that long, with the speed of his movement, but to him every second was almost painful to think of. Stroking the gravestone slightly, his eyes glazed, almost with tears.

"Michizane... I'm so sorry... I wish I could've been here, my friend... I can't even protect one person, let alone..." He sighed, his throat getting tight and tears starting to fall.

"I wish... I wish I could've at least told you how I felt before... Before I left, before you died... Michizane... Maybe you wouldn't have... I know it's crazy, I know I may seem...Stupid, if you will. Stupid for talking to a gravestone," He chuckled harshly, spiteful at himself, and went on, "but so much has happened over the years...I love you... I have for a while... But I didn't deserve it, I didn't deserve what I wanted... I don't deserve you, I never did, I never will... And now I'll never even... Now that things are settled, I cannot even tell you..." He started shaking worse now, hanging his head, wishing he had done what he hadn't. Wishing that he could bring Michizane back. But he couldn't, he was powerless against the forces of life and death. He was only one man, after all. One man with a multitude of misfortunes and a lifetime of horrid luck.

Ushiwaka stood there in silence for a while, the tears silently falling, standing in memory of the great man he once knew, the great man that had captured many hearts, including his own.

He felt a ghostly hand on his shoulder, felt the memories rising, knew that hand was an illusion of his own sick mind. Knew that the times that had been were overwhelming the times that were.

His mind ran through all the times of his life, all of his memories. Then he drew Pillow Talk from the flute that it was contained in. He muttered a quick prayer under his breath, and plunged the glowing green blade into a vital spot. As the blood gushed out, his life flashed before his eyes; a solitary tear leaked from one of them. "I'm sorry, my friends , but… I've …done what I needed to… Au revoir."

No, Waka couldn't bring him back. But he could sure join him in the afterlife.

"Huuh...?" Waka muttered, his eyes opening slightly, the whole world appearing like .one large blur.

"Hey, Ushiwaka." A soft voice called, one that was so familiar, yet one he hadn't heard in so long. The man that the voice belonged to stroked Ushiwaka's hair gently, then ruffled it affectionately.

"Michizane!" Waka yelped happily, tears starting to form in his eyes as he sat up. He gave a watery smile, the shock still apparent.

"It's nice to see you again... It's been a while, has it not?" Michizane hugged the prophet, cracking a smile as well.

"Yeah... I'm...I'm happy too. I didn't expect... to see you so soon after I..."

"Died? I heard your monologue by my grave... Waka... Did you mean what I thought you meant?" Michizane asked, his head tilting ever so slightly, ever so hopefully.

"..." Waka flung his arms around Michizane's neck. "What do you think, Michizane?... I love you..."

Michizane's eyes softened as he wrapped his arms carefully around Waka's body. "Like I said.. I heard what you were saying. Waka... it seems we've both been watching each other from the same distance; both thinking the same thing about ourselves..." Both men lapsed into silence, keeping each other company without needing words to say.

"...Michizane..." Waka choked, breaking into tears, burying his head in the man's shoulder.

"It's all right, Waka, we're both together now." He put his hands on one side of Waka's face, and

kissed him on the cheek, then wrapped his arms back around Waka to where he was facing the older moon tribesman's chest. "Don't worry." The elder started stroking Waka's hair, cuddling him to his chest. "Relax..."

"I just... I don't want us to be separated again, Michizane. It would... Hah, and I call myself a prophet." He laughed mockingly, spitefully at himself.

"It's all right, Waka. We won't be... There's not really anything to separate us now..." Michizane was laying his chin on Waka's head. "It's... It's all all right, nothing else will happen." He laid the prophet on his side and cuddled softly up against him.

"Michizane... Don't leave... Please?"

"I won't Waka. I'll be right here, I promise."

Waka had cried himself to sleep, and Michizane caught up with him not long after. And with that both moon tribesman, the prophet and the scholar, slept soundly, not disturbed by anything, and most definitely not separated.


End file.
